4.6 out of 5 stars (4.6 / 5)

Seeing ghosts is my secret shame – Until I need it to solve a murder and stop another.
While working on a true crime story for my podcast, I am swept away into investigating a different murder. A young woman was abducted, murdered and put on display. My twin sister is the detective on the case and the Sheriff asks me to work with her. We can barely stand to be in the same room together, let alone work as a team.
Our petty differences must be put aside when my daughter’s friend disappears. She may be the next victim. What can I do to help save her before it’s too late?
Small town mystery readers like you say, “This book is a fast paced, paranormal riot. I loved every word.”
Enjoy this short excerpt:
I circle around the car, not sure if I can touch it or not. The handles and other high touch areas of the car are covered with black fingerprint dust, so I imagine a cursory processing of the car is already done. Deputy Rose is at the end of the lane, still guarding the crime tape. He watches me warily, no doubt wishing he had not let me in. I wait until he loses interest in what I’m doing and turns back to the road and his job.
Then I climb on the hood of her car.
Laying on my back I stretch my arms wide, opening myself to the universe, opening myself to whatever I may learn that can be helpful to saving Tyra. I’d rather be inside the car, in her driver’s seat, but this will have to do.
“Lord, please show me something useful. Please let me help find this girl before it’s too late.”
I lay still on the hood, hoping Rose doesn’t see me. From this angle, I’m pretty sure I’m hidden from his view. When he doesn’t immediately yell at me, I decide I’m safe and focus on what I came here to do.
I’ve never tried to use my gifts on purpose, and so far my attempts tonight have been failures. But her abductor was here, she was here and scared, maybe it left some impression.
I listen with more than my ears, but nothing comes to me.
Praying again for help, I stretch my arms above my head, reaching towards the summer stars. I squint until my fingers fade and I see the stars behind them. Pushing all the energy I can muster out of my fingertips and into the sky, I listen.
I don’t hear her, but I see her.
Not Tyra, but Jenny.

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